


You Only Disappoint the Ones that Don't Believe

by nogrey



Category: Naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28229724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogrey/pseuds/nogrey
Summary: Once, the Sannin made a promise to Sakumo Hatake that they'd look after his son if anything happened to him.All three of them failed to keep it.Or, three times a Sannin looked at Kakashi Hatake and remembered that promise.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	You Only Disappoint the Ones that Don't Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hannah Hold On by The Getup Kids

Jiraiya hadn’t been back in the village for more than a few hours and had only just escaped the Hokage’s tower when he glimpsed a familiar sheen of silver disappearing around the corner. For a moment, longing for an old friend overrode the logic of his senses and he gave chase. He turned the same corner, a familiar knot of grief heavy in his chest, only to see…

A child, walking solitarily away. Kakashi, of course. He’d forgotten how quickly children grew- last time Jiraiya had seen the kid he’d been about six and a freshly minted chuunin (so, so painfully small and young). Now, he was probably nearing ten. Sarutobi-sensei told him how Minato was in charge of the kid and soon they’d form a team. That was good. Sakumo, although he’d been endlessly proud of Kakashi’s genius, had worried constantly over his fiercely independent nature. 

This was the first time Jiraiya had been back in Konoha since Sakumo’s death. Of course, he’d heard about it; intelligence was his forte after all and word of the end of such a revered shinobi spread quickly. Still, it was other nations that spoke of the White Fang with reluctant respect. Konoha-nin whispered of a man shamed and how his death may restore honour to the Hatake name. 

Only once had he seen Sakumo after that failed mission. It had shaken him, truly, to see his friend in such a way. The White Fang who had once been so fearsome was reduced to this tired, sad shell of a man. Jiraiya had seen him wipe out entire battlefields of enemies, his white chakra blade and the muzzles of his wolf summons stained red by the time he was done. Now, he had slumped exhaustively in a corner, hardly a spark of life back in him. It was only when Jiraiya had broached the subject of Kakashi (who had been away on his own mission), that even a glimmer of anything returned to his empty husk.   
“You remember the promise you made when Kakashi was still a baby? All three of you?” There was a sudden, almost manic gleam in his eye. If only Jiraiya had recognised then what it meant; instead, he had only felt relief that there was something.   
“We promised that if anything happened to you, we’d keep an eye on the kid,” He recalled, remembering how surprised he, Tsunade and Orochimaru had been when Sakumo had suddenly turned up with a son and sealed lips on the identity of the mother.   
Sakumo had settled again, nodding, “Good. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.” 

Now, Jiraiya hesitated. Kakashi had been an odd enough child when he still had his father, his genius isolating him from other kids his age. He wasn’t really sure what he’d say to him now. But he’d promised Sakumo and with Tsunade gone and Orochimaru… being Orochimaru, he was the only one left to fulfill it. 

“Kakashi!” Resolving himself, he called out. The kid stopped and greeted Jiraiya with perfect respect, tone devoid of any particular emotion. Jiraiya swallowed hard under the gaze of those dark, dark eyes. They were Sakumo’s eyes. Kakashi was the spit of his father. His eyes were the same as Sakumo’s had been at the end; eternal voids, empty of any life. They should not belong to a kid that hadn’t even reached double digits yet. 

“Lord Jiraiya?” His head was tilted in slight confusion, puppy-like.   
“You’ve been taking missions with Minato, lately. Have they been going well?” 

“Our missions have been completed successfully. Minato-sensei is an excellent shinobi. I’m learning a lot from him,” There was a flicker of something in his young face. Confusion, still. A hint of caution and distrust. Of course, Jiraiya had barely been around. He wouldn’t remember the times that Jiraiya would hover around his father whilst he was still just a baby, wondering what could possibly have convinced his friend to want a child. Since he’d begun to grow up, graduating from the academy and taking on missions himself, Jiraiya had rarely been in the village. To Kakashi, it made no sense for one of the great Sannin to take any interest in him. Unless…  
“Of course, Minato’s excellent! He was my student after all. As the student of my student, you’re like a grand-student of mine!” Jiraiya peered down at the child, whose masked face was distinctly unimpressed but who made no attempt to protest, “I just wanted to check on my teaching legacy. Well, I see it’s safe with you.” 

Kakashi gazed back up at him, his careless tone suddenly taking on a conviction that had been absent throughout the conversation, “I will be a good shinobi.” 

There was a force behind it. A heavy, suffocating grief. Jiraiya thought back to his promise, to the intensity with which Sakumo had sought it. This was a child who had been shaped by grief. Jiraiya now had an opportunity to do as he swore to Sakumo that he would; he had no doubts that Kakashi was and would continue to be a good shinobi, but as a human he needed help. Already, he seemed to have locked away his emotions in favour of shinobi rules that, in Jiraiya’s humble opinion, should never have been made. 

But the kid had Minato. And Jiraiya had his own responsibilities. He took one last appraising look, noting the handle of Sakumo’s tantou protruding from where it was strapped to Kakashi’s back, “I expect you will be.” 

As he walked away, he tried to ignore the feeling of betrayal that crept up his spine. 

***

Orochimaru knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave Fire Country before ANBU caught up to him. His dear old Sensei’s weakness had allowed him to escape Konoha to one of his labs further out and Danzo’s interference would buy him time, but even that wouldn’t be enough. Really, it depended on who they sent after him. ANBU may be elite, but it would take a lot of them to cause him any concern. 

What he was not expecting was a single ANBU. What he most certainly was not expecting was for that single ANBU to be a child. Sakumo’s son of all of them. For a moment, that wild silver hair made him hesitate. There had been few people that Orochimaru had ever considered a friend, but Sakumo Hatake had been one of them. A steady, calm presence unlike the wildness of Jiraiya and Tsunade. Able to match them on the battlefield as well, like few others could ever dream of. 

Orochimaru had been distantly aware of Kakashi since his father had passed. Death seemed to follow the boy, as one by one everyone he loved died; violent deaths, all of them. If he had been anyone else, the genius he possessed would have caught Orochimaru’s attention in a different way. He’d make a good body in the future, but it was a sacrilegious thought. Morals may mean little to him, but he’d respect the friend he once had and leave his son alone. 

Still, they could not expect the boy to survive this encounter. However exceptional he may be, Kakashi was still a child and Orochimaru had decades of experience to add to his own natural genius. For a moment, he felt an anger that he didn’t know he was still capable of feeling. That they would dare send the White Fang’s son to die. 

To his credit, Kakashi showed no hesitation. There was a shriek as his chakra gathered in his fist, lightning crackling. The brilliant, bold white of his chakra was familiar; Orochimaru had seen it wipe out tens of enemy shinobi at once. The Hatake chakra was unique and endlessly fascinating. 

With relative ease, Orochimaru ducked under the strike and slashed upwards with his kunai. It was with a flash of sudden emotion, a need to see his friend’s face one last time. The hound mask split neatly in two, Kakashi’s eyes wide behind it. One, the unnervingly red sharingan and its restless tomoe. The other, infinitely dark and empty. Sakumo’s. 

Sentimentality was a weakness that Orochimaru rarely possessed, however his mind was elsewhere as he absently acknowledged the familiar approach of a snake. Memories of a promise, a child and a corpse. In the years since Sakumo’s death, he had simply buried and ignored the responsibility he had sworn to uphold. With Jiraiya and Tsunade acting no better there was no one to hold him to his honour (which was long gone anyway) and the child had no idea what he was missing. 

The paper bomb exploding was unexpected; Sarutobi-sensei was typically more upfront with his battles, leaving the colder and more calculating side of things to Danzo. It was the kind of injury that he hadn’t experienced in years, gruesome and agonising with blood spilling through his fingers. It suddenly made a lot more sense why they believed that Hound alone would enough for the job (although he couldn’t help but wonder if it was Sarutobi-sensei’s tender old heart, willing to sacrifice a promising, young, loyal shinobi for the sake of his once-student). 

Kakashi made no further move, his body locked in place and even as his tense muscles twitched. There was an odd expression on his face, even with the mask; fear, certainly, but some kind of uncertain recognition. 

Orochimaru limped by, wincing as the movement caused a fresh wave of blood to spill through his hands. The scent would make him easier to track and that meant he’d have to face Kakashi again- the Hatake clan had always been excellent trackers. 

As he moved, the faint moon that still hung in the bright afternoon sky seemed to gaze upon his coldly.   
“When he dies, it won’t be by my hand, Sakumo,” He let the breeze carry his words off into the sky, “The way he’s going, I doubt he’ll make it much longer anyway.” 

It was the closest he would get to keeping his promise. 

***

Naruto had mentioned desperately needing her expertise to heal his teammate, the Uchiha boy, and a sensei that remained otherwise unnamed. Tsunade imagined a jonin of passable strength, a decent enough shinobi for sure, but tragically unequipped to deal with the nine-tails jinchuuriki and the last Uchiha on one team. 

The sight of that distinctive silver hair struck her deeply; for a moment, her heart stuttered in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. It had always lingered in the back of her mind, the promise she’d made to Sakumo. Initially, she’d fully intended to honour it. She’d been around briefly whilst Kakashi was young, hadn’t even minded offering the occasional bit of guidance to such a bright kid. But then Nawaki and Dan had died and her grief had crushed her. Nothing in the world could have kept her in the Leaf Village- she’d taken Shizune and fled. 

Of course, now she immediately set to work. It was unreasonably strange, seeing the man that Kakashi had grown into. He was only a couple of years younger than Shizune, but he’d been immortalised in her memory as the child he had been when she left. Even with most of his face covered, he’d always visibly been Sakumo’s son. She missed the man more than she’d ever admit. 

Over the years, Kakashi’s reputation had naturally reached her ears. The Copy Ninja, Kakashi of the Sharingan. The first time, she’d gone to the first bar she came across and drank herself silly. All that she had lost and Sakumo had dared go voluntarily. His stupid idea of honour was worthless; Kakashi would always have restored it to the Hatake clan himself. It would have been worth a lot more if there was more than just the one clan member left. 

When he finally woke and that familiar black gaze met hers, it felt eerily like a resurrection. Tsunade had spent so many years running from her grief, the emptiness in her chest gaped. So she resorted to what she always had, snapping at him for getting so badly hurt despite his supposed genius. And although his eyes still held traces of that darkness that Danzo had coveted, they curved in a smile anyway. 

As soon as she finished at the hospital, before worrying about settling into her new responsibilities, Tsunade took full advantage of her power as Hokage to access Kakashi Hatake’s full, uncensored record. Kannabi bridge (she had wondered about the eye). The death of his other teammate by his own hand. Detailed reports of every assassination in ANBU, the considerably shorter psych reports, the brief footnotes mentioning the Kyuubi attack and ROOT. Then, she wondered whether it was too late to keep her promise. A resolution was made not to allow it to be so. 

Three years later, Kakashi Hatake had grown from simply being Sakumo’s son whom she had sworn to protect, to being an excellent shinobi, a trusted confidant and a friend in his own right.   
Three years later, Tsunade failed. Kakashi Hatake died in battle. Tsunade wanted to scream, but she was forced to settle for a single punch. She had taken on any more responsibilities when she became the Hokage- an entire village full of them. Now, she could only resolve to make his death mean something. 

She hoped he got to see his father again, wherever he was now.


End file.
